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Book review: The Strange Case Of Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde follows Gabriel John Utterson, a London-based legal practitioner who investigates a series of strange occurrences between his old friend, Dr. Henry Jekyll, and a murderous criminal named Edward Hyde.

By Caleb FosterPublished 7 months ago 5 min read
The Strange Case Of Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

There are books that entertain, books that challenge, and books that leave a subtle yet profound mark on how we understand human nature. For me, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson belongs to that rare third category. It's a novel that seeps under your skin not through overt horror or spectacle, but through its psychological resonance and moral complexity.

Written and published in 1886, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is a classic work of Gothic fiction and psychological horror. Its concise form, more novella than full-length novel, belies the thematic weight it carries. Stevenson, a Scottish author known also for Treasure Island, crafts in this story a chilling allegory of duality and the darker sides of human consciousness. It is clearly intended for an adult or mature young-adult readership, especially those intrigued by moral dilemmas, psychological studies, and eerie, atmospheric narratives.

The story is set in Victorian London, a city portrayed with both its prim public respectability and its shadowy, fog-laden alleys. Without giving away key plot revelations, I can say that it follows the investigations of a lawyer, Mr. Utterson, into the increasingly disturbing relationship between his friend, the respectable Dr. Henry Jekyll, and a violent, uncouth man named Edward Hyde. What at first appears to be a mystery of blackmail soon reveals itself to be something far more uncanny and disturbing. The central theme — the duality of human nature, the conflict between social decorum and primal impulse — is explored through a narrative structure that begins as a detective story and evolves into a philosophical meditation.

Stylistically, Stevenson employs a restrained, formal prose that reflects the decorum of the time yet manages to convey a growing sense of unease. The book’s structure is particularly compelling — we’re introduced to the mystery through the eyes of others before finally being allowed into the mind of Dr. Jekyll himself. This layered approach builds tension gradually and forces the reader to reassess what has come before once the full truth is revealed. The pacing is methodical but purposeful; it never feels rushed, yet it is concise enough to maintain a strong grip on the reader’s attention throughout.

What stands out most about Stevenson’s language is its clarity coupled with an underlying menace. There’s a carefully maintained balance between civility and horror. Even the moments of violence or terror are described with a kind of cold elegance, which makes them all the more disturbing. Imagery plays a central role — from the fog-drenched London streets to the locked doors and dimly lit laboratories, the physical settings mirror the psychological states of the characters. Stevenson knows how to evoke fear not with monsters, but with mirrors, masks, and secrets.

One of the most remarkable aspects of the book is its depth of psychological insight, particularly for a work written in the 19th century. At a time when Freud had yet to publish his theories of the unconscious, Stevenson had already tapped into the profound idea that every person contains conflicting aspects of self — the noble and the base, the generous and the selfish, the disciplined and the destructive. Rather than merely presenting Jekyll and Hyde as separate people, Stevenson uses them as a metaphor for the internal battles that rage within us all. Jekyll is not a victim of possession or external corruption; he is, instead, the architect of his own fragmentation. This self-inflicted division is perhaps what makes the story so haunting.

In terms of emotional content, the novel excels at cultivating dread, loneliness, and a kind of sorrow that feels more existential than sentimental. There is a profound sadness to Dr. Jekyll’s descent — not simply because of what happens, but because of what it reveals about the cost of repression and the denial of one’s true nature. It invites reflection on how societal expectations can force people to compartmentalize and even distort their identities. Despite its brevity, the book stirred in me a powerful mix of curiosity, pity, and unease.

If there is any flaw in the book, it might be its somewhat dated exposition style in the first few chapters, which relies on dialogue and second-hand accounts to sketch out the mystery. Some modern readers might find the slow buildup a little remote or lacking immediacy. But I would argue that this distancing is intentional — it mimics the way the Victorian characters themselves avoid direct confrontation with unpleasant truths. When we finally hear Dr. Jekyll’s own voice, the effect is all the more riveting because of this structural choice.

Personally, what impressed me most was the precision with which Stevenson builds his themes without ever becoming didactic. The story is deeply moral without being moralistic. It suggests that denying one’s darkness, rather than understanding and integrating it, leads to ruin. And in doing so, it subverts the Victorian ideal of absolute virtue. The book also stands apart from many other horror stories because its terror does not lie in the supernatural per se, but in the all-too-human. There are no demons here, only selves.

Another point of distinction is how The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde resonates with contemporary issues despite being a product of its time. The questions it raises about identity, self-control, duality, and the performance of respectability are still relevant today. In an age where image and reputation often clash with personal authenticity, where public and private selves may differ dramatically, Stevenson’s novella reads like a timeless parable. It also lends itself to countless interpretations — as a commentary on addiction, as a metaphor for mental illness, or as an allegory of colonial anxiety. Each reader brings their own experience to the work, and it seems to grow richer with each reading.

So, I found The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde to be a haunting, intelligent, and deeply affecting book. It lingers not because of its plot twists but because of its psychological insight and moral ambiguity. I wholeheartedly recommend it to readers who appreciate Gothic literature, psychological fiction, or classic works that still feel relevant and thought-provoking. It is a book that asks timeless questions and offers no easy answers, and in doing so, it earns its place among the literary greats. My final verdict: a chilling masterpiece that is as elegant as it is unsettling.

This book review was written using the following references 👇

RecommendationReviewFiction

About the Creator

Caleb Foster

Hi! My name is Caleb Foster, I’m 29, and I live in Ashland, Oregon. I studied English at Southern Oregon University and now work as a freelance editor, reviewing books and editing texts for publishers.

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